


Consolation

by parttimehuman



Series: Tragedy [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Grief/Mourning, Liam is a flower thief, M/M, Sadness but it gets slightly less sad, Theo has slightly stalkerish tendencies, set after Mason's death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-14
Updated: 2019-01-14
Packaged: 2019-10-10 07:30:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17421671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/parttimehuman/pseuds/parttimehuman
Summary: When Theo catches Liam stealing flowers from Nana Raeken's garden, he demands to follow him to see if Liam's date is truly exceptional enough to justify flower theft.Liam doesn't know how to break it to Theo that he's actually on his way to the cemetery.Or:Sometimes it takes a stranger to offer us consolation.





	Consolation

**Author's Note:**

  * For [maraudersourwolf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/maraudersourwolf/gifts).



> Feliz cumpleaños, little trash kitty!💛
> 
> (Sorry for the sadness, you kind of asked for it.)

Liam isn’t sure whether his current misery is a good or a bad thing. He’s been feeling down for weeks, every day weighing a little heavier on his tired shoulders, every minute passing a little more slowly, the ticking of time turning into the countdown of a bomb ready to explode in his head until on that morning, Liam woke up to darkness and aching pain in his chest. 

 

It was a battle to move out of his bed, more so than on all the other days when he’s been certain he shouldn’t go to school, or outside, or anywhere ever again. Ever. It was a battle to not cry as warm water washed away sweat and sleepiness but not the nightmare, and it was a battle to force down a quarter of a pancake at best, to get dressed and tie shoelaces with fingers that aren’t made for functioning in real life anymore. 

 

He wanted to give up as the cold air outside of the front door hit his face, and he wanted to give up when the scent of wet concrete filled his nostrils, but he didn’t, for a reason that isn’t present in his mind, but still somehow existent. So here he is now, cold hands buried in the pockets of his coat, ears red and freezing, the corners of his mouth perking downwards, his heart broken, the shattered pieces heavier than the whole thing it once was. 

 

Liam doesn’t want to keep walking, but there’s no alternative to the half-hearted steps he owes. He doesn’t want to live that day at all, wants to hide out until it’s over, prefers the bullshit the other 364 days of the year have to offer over the feeling that’s settled beneath his skin and in the cracks of his soul. He doesn’t want to go about the day like it’s a necessary evil, because that wouldn’t be fair. He doesn’t want to buy flowers either, and maybe that’s the only thing he’ll allow himself to bail on, kind of.

 

He’s been a bender of rules since the most innocent of days in his life, even if back then, it weren’t his own rules that he had to find a way around. Liam wonders if the things he was never supposed to learn have become the only ones he’s really good at, and then he takes a turn so he can pass by the old Mrs Raeken’s garden. 

 

Other than years ago, Liam doesn’t look around before he grabs a handful of daisies and yanks them from the neatly organized flowerbed at the edge of the garden. He takes a look around and decides for the bunch of purple-blue flowers to his left to go perfectly together with the daisies he already has, so he plucks them as well, turning around while he gets rid of the stems and roots, carelessly throwing them on the sidewalk. 

 

With grim determination, Liam rips a thread from his sleeve and stops in his tracks to wrap it around what then turns into a little flower bouquet, white and blue and violet petals blending into another. 

 

“Looks pretty,” a low voice comments from behind him. 

 

Liam is definitely surprised, but he doesn’t have the energy to jump or dramatically put a hand over his heart or ask the stranger any questions. “I know,” he says simply, examining his work before he resumes walking down the street. 

 

For about two minutes, he pays no mind to the stranger following behind. He’s walking in public space, after all, which he’s been doing for pretty much all his life without the presence of other living creatures keeping him from it. There’s something, though, something that Liam can’t quite put his finger on, about this particular guy walking just a few feet behind him that tickles in the back of his neck, although he doesn’t make a noise, or behaves in any suspicious way whatsoever. 

 

Liam takes a detour. Basically, he rounds two blocks in a perfect circle before he’s back on his original route, the stranger still in his back with the same distance. It bothers him, somehow, although it’s not real fear that settles in his stomach at the thought that the guy might not just happen to follow him, but actually be following him with a purpose, whatever that purpose could possibly be. He stops dead in his tracks, turns around, unamused. 

 

It’s a little annoying that the young man standing in front of him smiles so sympathetically, showing off a perfect row of shiny white teeth and a sparkle in his mysterious, yet pretty looking green eyes that Liam shouldn’t be noticing. 

 

“You’re being a creep,” Liam says shortly, turning around again to avoid looking equally creepy by staring at the stranger’s lips any longer. 

 

“Funny,” the dude replies, and Liam has no explanation for how amused he sounds. He keeps walking, and still, he’s being followed. 

 

“I don’t think you know what the word  _ funny _ means. You must have skipped that day in kindergarten,” Liam points out. On some days, sarcasm seems to be the only thread still connecting him to sanity. 

 

“Really? You don’t think it’s funny when you catch some random guy stealing flowers from your garden, and then  _ he’s _ the one to call  _ you _ a creep for wanting to see where he takes them?” 

 

“These flowers are from the old Mrs Raeken’s garden,” Liam defends himself. Sure, he hasn’t been around the neighborhood in a couple of years, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t know his way around anymore. He remembers what her house and front yard look like exactly.

 

It’s quiet for maybe half a minute before his persecutor speaks again. “I see. So I’m guessing you have Mrs Raeken’s permission to help yourself to the prettiest of her flowers whenever you feel like it.” 

 

“Fuck off,” Liam grumbles, because seriously, who does this guy think he is? 

 

“That’s what I thought,” the other guy sneers behind him. Liam’s fist clenches around the flowers. He didn’t think he had it in him that day to get angry and aggressive, but the asshole bothering him is pretty good at setting him off, Liam has to admit. His neck feels hot and tense, just like it always does when control slips away from him and his head starts throbbing with an ache that only fuels his anger at the world. 

 

“Do I look like I give a flying shit what you think?” Liam presses out between gritted teeth, realizing a little too late that in fact, it probably does. 

 

Unexpectedly, the stranger doesn’t say it, but to Liam, it feels like the silence is filled with the truth about him anyway, and he loathes his own incapability of keeping his emotions buried inside him where he’d like them to remain forever. For that exact reason, he thinks he’s better off living beneath his blanket for the rest of his life. If only people would finally accept that as a legitimate lifestyle. 

 

“Is she at least pretty?” 

 

Liam stops again, confused. He looks at the other boy over his shoulder. “Who?” 

 

“The lucky one. The girl you’re trying to woo. Not that I blame you for bringing flowers. I mean, how else would you impress her, with your natural charm? I’m with you on that one, better have back-up plan.” 

 

“I’m not-” 

 

“So, is she pretty? Tell me or don’t, I’ll see for myself. I bet she’s pretty, if she can make  _ you _ gift her something, but I’m afraid I’ll have to check. See if her exceptional beauty truly justifies flower theft, you know.” 

 

Liam needs a minute to process that. “Seriously?” He asks. “That’s why you’re following me?”

 

“Of course,” the other guy replies, pretending like it’s the obvious explanation. “I just watched you butcher Nana Raeken’s beautiful flower bed. I feel like it’s my personal responsibility to make sure it was at least worth it.” 

 

“As if you care about the stupid flowers, stalker.” 

 

“Maybe I should introduce myself,” Stalker laughs, breaking into a jog until he’s caught up with Liam, standing in front of him with a dumb grin on his face and a large, soft looking hand stretched out for a handshake. 

 

_ Maybe I should pray for whatever deity currently available to let a huge rock fall upon me right this second,  _ Liam thinks, because he needs no pretty boys blocking him way on that day, or any day, ever. 

 

“Theo,” the stranger says, smiling in a way that unsettles Liam from the inside out. “Theo Raeken.” 

 

_ Oh. Shit.  _

 

Theo Raeken?

 

Theo ‘possibly the same Raeken as in the old Mrs Raeken’ smirks as he watches Liam’s eyes widen and his jaw drop, lips closing and parting again in an attempt to come up with a reply that doesn’t make him sound like a five-year-old who’s just been caught with a face covered in the chocolate he wasn’t supposed to eat. 

 

“Don’t worry,” Theo tells him, making it obvious that he himself is everything but worried. On the contrary, he seems to enjoy their encounter a lot. “I’m not one to hold onto grudges. I don’t want revenge. I just want to see if she’s worth it.” 

 

“He,” Liam presses out, although that might just be the stupidest reaction. Technically, it’s not a lie, since the flowers are indeed for a person of male gender, but everything else Theo is imagining is completely besides the truth of his situation. The thing is, Liam can’t exactly explain it to him, so he rolls with it and hopes that Theo is less interested in a boy date than a girl date, even if neither really is the case. 

 

“Even better,” Theo beams at him. 

 

Great. Attempted strategy number one - failed. It’s impressive, in a way, with how much excitement Theo follows him around through Beacon Hills, a dumb grin on his face, determined to watch Liam go on a date, reading the vibes so terribly wrong that Liam doesn’t know how to break it to him that in reality, he’s not on a fun little trip to a nice restaurant or some shit, he’s doing the hardest walk he’s had to in one entire year, and that was even before Theo decided to join in. 

 

Because where Liam is going is the cemetery, and the boy he stole flowers for isn’t going to see them anymore. 

 

“Man, why are we meeting this mystery guy at the freaking end of Beacon Hills?” Theo complains after maybe fifteen minutes of walking and non-stop babbling about the different meanings of flowers. Daisies symbolize innocence and purity, apparently. How ironic, Liam thinks, that those are the ones he took from a garden that he had no business in. 

 

“Because that’s where he… lives now,” Liam answers, swallowing. Every word that leaves his lips stings in his heart, but he finds no way to stop the half-lies. The truth might still hurt him more. “He can’t leave there.” Liam only wishes Theo will get bored and fuck off before he reaches the gates of the cemetery and everything will come to light by itself. 

 

“Ohh, in that case it’s really nice of you to go see him that far away. Who would have thought that there’s a gentleman hidden inside you. What’s your name, by the way?” 

 

“None of your business.” 

 

“Why don’t you drive a car? That would have made things so much easier, you know.” 

 

“I don’t drive,” Liam growls, again wondering too late why he felt compelled to share that little detail about himself. 

 

“Oh, you don’t have your license yet, okay,” Theo nods empathetically, except he doesn’t actually  _ understand.  _

 

There’s a little voice in Liam’s head that needs to clarify, because contrary to Theo’s apparent belief, he does have a license, meaning he didn’t fail to get it, or lack the motivation to try in the first place. Meaning he does have his shit together sometimes, in certain ways, and somehow it bothers him that Theo could think otherwise, so he corrects him after all. 

 

“I do have a license. I have a car. I can drive. I could have driven today. I just don’t.” Liam commits the very severe mistake to look at Theo who’s by now walking beside him instead of behind his back, catching green eyes staring back at him, deeper down inside him than he feels comfortable with. “Maybe I just like to walk, stalker,” he mutters, “it’s healthy.” 

 

“Alright, thief, do what you want.” 

 

“Oh, you mean like, being left in peace by you? Because that’s about the only thing I really want right now.” 

 

Theo laughs. “Nice try,” he says. “You might be forgetting that it’s my grandma who you stole the flowers for your sweetheart from. Could have just bought them from a shop like a normal person.” 

 

Liam is kind of a little done with the whole flower theft thing. Sure, technically speaking, he wasn’t allowed to take them, but how should he have known the old Mrs Raeken’s grandson would be torturing him for the rest of his life as a consequence? He sure as hell would have stayed away. 

 

“What do you want from me, huh? If you must insist, I’ll give you your stupid flowers back, alright?” Liam does absolutely not want to give them away, but he wants Theo’s company even less, so he’s ready to make a sacrifice. He shoves the whole self-made bouquet in Theo’s arms and quickens his pace, hoping that Theo gets the message and finally stays behind. 

 

Of course, that doesn’t happen. 

 

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Theo says softly, touching Liam’s arm, which definitely shouldn’t feel as warm as it does. “It’s not like I can put them back in the ground anyway. I’ll plant new ones.” 

 

Great, now Theo wants to guilt trip him. Isn’t that just awesome? 

 

“Jesus Christ!” Liam exclaims. He wants to punch the guy in the face. Liam’s day was difficult and painful enough as it was, no need to make it complicated on top of that. “Will you shut the fuck up? Believe me, I wouldn’t have taken your damn flowers if I’d known what a drama you’d make, okay? I’m not a freaking criminal. Do you want me to pay you?” 

 

“Of course not.” 

 

“Here, let me buy these flowers like a normal person,” Liam spits in Theo’s face, stopping again, pulling some money out of the pocket of his jeans, a few crinkled bills and coins, practically throwing them at Theo, watching them fall to the ground as Theo stands and observes him, so calmly that Liam can barely contain himself, his blood boiling with anger. 

 

“I’m not asking you to-”

 

“You’re an asshole, Theo!” Liam yells. He’s going to pay for the flowers, or he’s going to take a punch. He’ll do whatever it takes, but the inquisition has to stop or he’ll lose his mind. “You think you can just tag along and bother me all day long? Can act all high and mighty because you’ve never been caught stealing anything? I’m a terrible person, I know, but you know what? You’re even worse. You’ve got a problem with me? Solve it. Don’t use it for your amusement.”

 

“I’m not-” 

 

Theo’s voice has gone quiet and weak. Liam knows he has him, only needs to land one good last line and he can move on. 

 

“Do you get off on making people feel bad?” He asks. “You’re not a stalker, you’re a pervert.” 

 

Liam can see Theo losing control over his features. That one stings, he knows it. He holds the flowers tightly in his grip as he turns away and walks, this time with no footsteps behind him. 

 

It takes two seconds until he realizes that he doesn’t feel victorious, he feels ashamed. It takes ten seconds until the feeling has settled in his stomach, coiling. Liam closes his eyes. This is the exact reason why he didn’t want to talk to anyone on that day. If only Theo hadn’t been so stubborn. Liam bites his tongue and walks ahead, feeling every step getting harder. 

 

He stops. 

 

“We used to steal flowers from your grandma’s garden when we were kids,” Liam says, his voice loud and clear, cutting through the cool air. He doesn’t look at Theo, but he can feel the exact moment when he’s got his attention back. 

 

It’s silent for a long moment. Liam almost decides to give up and leave it. He’s made a step towards Theo, metaphorically, and he’s going to need Theo to reach out or there’s nothing left to safe. 

 

“We?” The question comes hesitantly, the low voice barely above a whisper. 

 

“Mason and I,” Liam explains, although the name comes with a bitter taste on his tongue. “He was my best friend.  _ ‘If she doesn’t want anyone to pluck her flowers,’  _ he used to say,  _ ‘then why did she plant them so close to the sidewalk, Liam?’  _ I believed Mason everything. He was the smartest kid I knew and I took every word he spoke for pure wisdom.” 

 

“Are you still friends with Mason?” Theo wants to know. 

 

Liam isn’t ready. He looks down at the flowers in his hand and prays for the tears not to escape his eyes. “Not like we used to,” he answers, once again avoiding the truth without having to lie. 

 

“I get it,” Theo says, although he gets nothing. “You guys might not be as close as you once were, but he still matters to you. You had something special planned and you probably wished for him to be there with you. So you plucked the flowers, maybe to sort of seek his support.” 

 

It’s tragically cruel how accurate Theo’s words are, in a completely different way than intended, but still. He would talk about it, would try to get everything off his chest and let all of the pain out until he’d feel better, but the only person he’s ever been able to do that with is Mason, and the fact that Mason isn’t there is the entire source of his misery, its end and beginning as well as the gaping hole in the middle. 

 

It’s unclear where they stand. Liam won’t pick his money back up and he also doesn’t have anything left to say to a stranger who has no business in his deepest trauma. He doesn’t like the thought of leaving Theo like that, but there’s nothing between them that justifies staying, so he sets one foot in front of the other again, unsure whether he’s disappointed or relieved as he hears Theo following him. 

 

“You know, if you ever visit this boy again, I might give you a ride,” Theo offers, which is entirely too generous for Liam to take him up on it. Not that he plans to return to Mason’s grave anytime soon. It makes him restless, though, how willing Theo is to stay where nobody asked him to, to help when he clearly doesn’t know anything about Liam, how stubbornly insistent to keep following him. He wonders why, wonders what Theo thinks of him, but he isn’t going to ask. 

 

“You don’t really want to do this, do you?” Liam asks ten minutes later, because there’s only so much time left before it’ll be obvious where he’s going, and he isn’t going to give the entire explanation, simply because he can’t speak those words. 

 

“See your pretty boy? Why not,  _ Liam _ ?” 

 

At first, Liam needs to think about when exactly he gave his name away. Really, it was Mason who mentioned it, betraying him even from the grave, because what else. 

 

“You can’t.” Liam says, afraid of Theo asking further. He can give the facts, not the reasons, and he hates Theo as much as he respects him for being the kind of guy to question things. “You can’t see him.” 

 

Theo seems to be thinking for a moment before he asks, “Fine, then maybe tell me about him? What’s he like? What about him makes you like him?” 

 

Liam wants to start crying right at the spot, to fall down to the cold, hard ground and sit there for the rest of the day wailing. One year, and every memory has been sending a hard blow to his longing heart. One year, and nobody’s ever successfully made him talk about it. Once, just one single time, Liam was forced to a therapy session to help him cope with his loss, but smashing the therapist’s car with his lacrosse stick helped, and he never had to go again.

 

For an entire year, Liam has been fighting to keep all of his demons inside him, not ready to share them with a world that wouldn’t understand anyway, and on the one day when he wants to be left alone even more than on every other day, this stupid boy next to him crosses his path and asks all the wrong questions, having the audacity to look at him with eyes that almost make him want to talk. 

 

“The best in every possible way,” Liam presses out, his jaws painfully clenched. It’s the shortest version of the truth he knows. “And now shut up. He’s none of your business.” As he says it, Liam thinks that Mason would probably have gotten along well with Theo, but that thought is entirely too much to process, really. 

 

“Are you in love with him?” Theo asks, knocking the air out of Liam’s lungs. The audacity. 

 

He doesn’t owe Theo an answer. It’s not like they’re on the same page about anything at all anyway, but somehow something bothers him about that. 

 

“No,” Liam finally says, against better judgment of the completely messed up situation he’s gotten himself into. “It’s not like that. Never was. I mean, sure, I was confused for a while there when I discovered I liked boys, but it was nothing, really. I mean- Doesn’t matter. I’m not in love.” 

 

“I see,” Theo replies, nodding his head. He doesn’t see, or if he does, he has no clue what it is he’s seeing, but Liam has no idea how to tell him that. 

 

“You don’t know shit, Theo.” 

 

“I know where this street leads us,” Theo argues, gesturing ahead. “I know you’re either trying to get rid of me before you go where you actually want to go-” He takes a deep breath in before he continues speaking, looking at Liam, who looks stubbornly away, feeling the coldness wander from his fingertips up his arms and beneath his shirt. “-or we’re going to the graveyard.” 

 

The weird thing is that the word doesn’t hurt as much as Liam expected it to. It’s bad that the graveyard is the truth that didn’t come across Liam’s lips, but it’s not terrible that Theo’s figured it out anyway, somehow. 

 

“Congratulations, stalker,” he says bitterly. “I guess we’re done then. Truly sad, you were just starting to grow on me. Well, some things just aren't meant to be. Bye now.” 

 

He doesn’t understand why Theo doesn’t leave from his side. 

 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he wants to know instead. “I wouldn’t have bothered you if I’d known the flowers were for a grave you’re visiting.” 

 

_ Then why are you not stopping now that you do?  _

 

“I don’t even know you!” Liam is raising his voice again, feeling the same heat beneath his skin that makes him want to just rip it off his bones sometimes. He knows he needs to chill, knows he’s being unfair, but he can’t find a way out of his own mind. “Why is it that I’m expected to tell you shit, huh? Because you happen to be the stupid grandson of some old lady who happens to have planted the flowers my best friend and I used to steal when we were kids? Is that it? Does that give you the right to ask a bunch of invasive questions and follow me around like a creep? Does that mean I need to tell you about how I lost everything good in my life?” 

 

“You don’t have to-” 

 

“Damn right I don’t!” Liam yells. The iron gates of Beacon Hills’ cemetery are in sight now, and all he wants is peace and quiet like those who aren’t longer there deserve it, but Theo won’t stop being there, being present next to him, breathing, eyes open and awake, ears strained to listen, head nodding slightly like he has any right to. 

 

“All I wanted was to suffer on my own. This is literally the last day that I want to share with anyone. I didn’t march through the entire town for your entertainment, you asshole! I’m here because he’s not! Because Mason is gone and I miss him every single day. Because it might as well have been me who killed him, and because nothing has gotten easier in the year that’s passed. Is that interesting to you, Theo, huh? Is that a fun enough story? Was that worth the little walk?” 

 

“That’s not why-” 

 

“I didn’t ask for you to watch me being miserable, and I don’t want you to! Fuck off!” 

 

Liam breathes heavily, his hands clenched into fists. He hates himself for saying too much, and he hates Theo for making him. He hates Mason, too, for not being around when he’s the only one who could make it better like it was his damn job as Liam’s best friend. 

 

Tears are streaming down Liam’s cheeks as he storms towards the gate, and he hates that they’re not for Mason alone like they should be. 

 

He sees red when Theo dares to hold the gate open for him in silence. 

 

A crack echoes through the cool air as Theo’s nose breaks, and a thud when he lands on his ass, but at least no cries of pain. Good, Liam thinks, at least he knows he deserved it. 

 

The flowers he stole look like shit by the time Liam stands in front of the grave, looking down at at a piece of stone that’s too small and too hard and too cold for the name it carries. 

 

There’s an entire speech Liam has been preparing for the day when he’d finally force himself to return to the grave. Several, actually, words over words worth of things he has to say to Mason, but nothing comes out as he’s actually there, he just falls down to his knees and cries, tossing the flowers away because they’re not pretty enough anymore, and because Mason wouldn’t have stolen them, not as the adult that he was when he died. 

 

At first, Liam is a little shocked by how many tears he’s got inside him, considering that not a single one escaped his eyes all year long since he last left this very place. Then he understands what’s happening. Even with Mason gone, he’s still less alone at his grave than he is surrounded by everyday life, and Liam can’t forbid himself to feel what he needs to feel anymore. 

 

An hour passes, maybe two. It gets dark. No words are spoken. Liam can’t find them. Mason can’t hear them. Is there even a point anymore? 

 

Three hours, four. Someone wraps a blanket around Liam’s shoulders. His instincts tell him to shrug it off, but Liam’s body is almost frozen by then, and that’s when he’s too weak to fight the help he didn’t ask for, at the very lowest, when greater pain doesn’t seem possible. 

 

There are two more blankets, and a bottle of water. Liam watches as an actual flower bouquet appears in front of his tired eyes, white and blue like he would have chosen them. Theo puts them into the ground, working silently and so efficiently that a far away part of Liam wonders where he’s learned it. Then he sits down next to Liam in the darkness, shoulders pressed together, a bit of dry blood still visible between his slightly crooked nose and his upper lip. 

 

“I’m proud of you,” Theo says without looking at him, sharing one of the blankets with Liam. 

 

Liam lets out a bitter sound that could almost be a laugh, except it’s the exact opposite, really. “What for?” 

 

“You’ve almost made it through the first anniversary of his death,” Theo explains. 

 

They remain silent. Liam nods, but he can’t thank him yet. All he can do is sit and breathe. And then count the flowers. And then apologize. 

 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, “for losing control again.” 

 

“You don’t need to be sorry for that,” Theo answers. “It was… messed up.” 

 

“I do. It’s my fault. It’s my fault, and it’s already cost me my best friend, and I still can’t change.” 

 

“Liam, don’t say that,” Theo replies. “It’s not your fault.” 

 

“You don’t know shit, Theo,” Liam sighs. He wishes he was the boy that Theo is seeing, the sad one that is mourning his best friend. He wishes he was worthy of the gentle help. He wishes there wasn’t more to the story, but every abyss is endless in his world. 

 

“I know you’re not guilty, Liam.” 

 

“He died in a car accident,” Liam spits out, because if anything truly hurts him in that moment, it’s Theo’s misplaced compassion. “You wanna know what it was that cost Mason his life? I can tell you what it was, if you need to know that last of my secrets as well so badly. It was the same thing that cost you the perfection of your stupid nose, stalker.” 

 

“I don’t understand.” 

 

“No, you don’t.” 

 

It’s none of Theo’s business. Liam owes neither an explanation nor an excuse. He purses his lips. If only he hadn’t met Theo. If only Theo… If only he’d met Theo earlier. 

 

“Mason died because a person suffering from a mental illness wasn’t fit to drive but still did.” 

 

He doesn’t know why he says it in the end. 

 

“I’m sorry that happened,” Theo says quietly. 

 

“You’re making me want to break your nose again,” Liam whines. The damn tears are back, and for once, anger feels like the better option. 

 

Theo says nothing. 

 

Minutes pass. 

 

“I have Intermitted Explosive Disorder,” Liam admits. “I get angry, and when that happens, I lose control.” 

 

“That’s why you don’t drive,” Theo concludes. Liam wishes he’d stop understanding him so well. He didn’t ask for it, for any of it. Not the comprehension, not the listening and the support. Not for the stupid blankets or the flowers. Certainly not for comfort. 

 

Liam doesn’t confirm. They both know he doesn’t have to. 

 

“It wasn’t you though,” Theo says after a while. 

 

Liam shakes his head. “No, but where’s the difference?” 

 

“The difference is,” Theo says, “that you had no part in your friend’s death, and yet, guilt is eating you up one year later. It makes a difference that you took a detour to get flowers from the same garden that the two of you used to steal them from instead of buying them. It makes a difference that you let me believe something that wasn’t true because you couldn’t talk about it. It makes a difference that you said earlier that this is the hardest day of the year for you. It makes a difference that you’ve been sitting here for hours, freezing. It makes a difference that you won’t get into a car anymore because of what happened. There are so many things that make a difference, Liam. I’ve known you for a couple of hours and I can already see them everywhere.” 

 

“As if you even know what you’re talking about,” Liam sniffs. The words sound nice, like the kind of things he wants to believe in one day, but reality isn’t what appears nice. It never is. 

 

“Maybe I don’t,” Theo shrugs. “Tell me about him. Tell me what made him the best friend there ever was.” 

 

This time, once Liam gets going, he can’t stop. There are a millions reasons why Mason was the greatest in every possible way. He tells Theo about their childhood shenanigans, when no stray cat in all of Beacon Hills was safe from them. He talks about their first day of high school, and getting drunk off of cheap wine. He admits that he was jealous of Mason’s halloween costumes every single year, because somehow they always looked cooler than his own. He mentions how smart Mason was, how kind, and every time he sees Theo smiling sympathetically, he feels his heart swell with pride, because everybody simply has to love Mason. 

 

“He’d be proud of you too,” Theo decides when Liam has finally ended. It must be almost midnight. “You know, in the end, this is just another one out of 365 days of the year. They’re never all the same to someone who’s living life, Liam. Some are sad, and some are happy. Some are longer than others, some are harder than others. Some make you feel like it’s not worth it, and some make you feel like you don’t have it in you to do another one right after. But they all pass. I’m sorry life has turned your days into battles. And I’m sorry you have to fight them without Mason by your side. I’m sorry you can’t see the victories sometimes. But you win. Every single one of them.”

 

“I don’t feel like the winner of anything,” Liam says, because it’s the truth, and wherever Theo gets his optimism from, Liam isn’t in on the secret. 

 

“No, you feel like you’ve been through the shittiest year of your life,” Theo replies, “you feel like you never want to look back, because it seems painful. But if you take a moment to do so, you’ll find that you won. 365 days, every single one of them against you, and yet you’re here.” 

 

“I don’t think I want to be here anymore,” Liam says. Mason’s grave is nothing but dirt and a stone in the middle of more dirt and more stones. There’s nothing left to say. Not to the dead, anyway. 

 

“Let’s go. I’ll walk you home.” 

 

From the corner of his eye, Liam sees a patch of blurry white and blue as they leave, the same flowers that Theo put on Mason’s grave, just a few rows down. Freshly planted. Liam turns his head after the grave stone as they walk by, same as Theo does, a blanket wrapped around each of them. 

 

_ Tara Raeken,  _ the stone says. 

 

“How many years has it been for you?” Liam wants to know. 

 

“Fourteen.” 

 

Fourteen times 365 battles, and yet Theo looks more like life than was bearable for Liam a few hours ago. 

 

Liam takes a swig from the water bottle before he hands it to Theo. And then they walk. The whole way back home, through the cold night and almost all of Beacon Hills until they part ways, with Theo’s offer to give Liam a ride the next time still standing. 

 

It’s scary, Liam thinks, to know that another person knows the things he’s been trying to bury inside him forever. He doesn’t know where Theo goes with these secrets, or how fiercely he’ll protect them. He depends on trust, which makes him feel proud and frightened at the same time. He’s vulnerable, incredibly so, and he doesn’t know yet if Theo’s worth it. 

 

“Good luck,” Theo says before Liam goes inside.

 

“Good luck to you too.” 

 

He doesn’t know in that moment that he’ll be back in three weeks, back at Nana Raeken’s garden with a bag of flower bulbs and more battles won. He doesn’t know that he stands at the beginning of a story, a story of a thief and a stalker, and how the oddest encounter brought them together to make them fall in love, doesn’t know that Mason will forever be missing, that normalcy is the closest to consolation he’ll get. 

 

Eventually, he will.


End file.
